


The Terror In His Eyes

by Ruen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 04:53:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13403880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruen/pseuds/Ruen
Summary: Dean is forced to watch as Castiel is tortured. And it breaks Dean to watch that happen, to be so powerless, to be unable to make it stop.





	The Terror In His Eyes

Dean is forced to watch as Castiel is tortured. And it breaks Dean, watching that happen. He is powerless, utterly powerless, and seeing Cas in pain, seeing Cas in _agony_ -Dean begs. Dean begs and he sobs and his voice shudders out of him without his permission, without thought. He cries, sobs Castiel's name over and over again as he realizes all he wants is to just take the pain away, not have to see Castiel's face twisted in such utter suffering. Not have to see the blood as it pools on Castiel's skin, as his skin gets paler and paler, a dangerous tinge to it that speaks of the cold and death and _so much blood oh god_ -

"Cas-Cas, Cas, Castiel, no no." Dean needs to take that pain away, needs to make it stop, it's all he wants, all he could ever want, he'd give anything, anything-"Castiel, Castiel, no. No, no-NO-" He's screaming now, sees the glint of a knife as it presses against something that isn't there, somewhere right between Cas' shoulder blades, and Dean's entire being shudders with the gut wrenching scream that tears itself free from Castiel's throat, how Castiel's voice has broken and caught and torn and shattered on that single sound. Agony, agony, agony is what stripped your humanity away, all that was left was pain, animalistic in its utter, horrific simplicity.

"Castiel, Castiel, no. No, PLEASE no-STOP, oh god-" He sobbed again, another broken “no” leaving his lips, falling from his mouth like the blood dripping sluggishly from Castiel's own, bitter and metallic and _wrong_ , wrong wrong wrong-

Dean needs to get out. He needs to get out, needs to move forward. Oh, god, he has to he has to, he has to move forward and untie Castiel and Castiel will fall into his arms-it's okay, Dean can hold him up, he's done it before, he knows he can, of course he can-and Cas will give him that smile he always does, exhausted and on the brink of collapse, but _alive_ , Cas always managing to curl the edges of his lips up because he knows Dean needs it-And Dean will patch him up, patch him up good, sew everything back together until it holds and he'll just look at Cas like he always does, drinking in how Cas' face looks in the harsh fluorescent light of yet another crappy motel bathroom, the shadows under his eyes all the more prominent because of it, but Dean doesn't care because it's _Cas_ and god he's _okay_ and-

But Dean is tied up and another knife is digging its way into Cas' flesh and Cas is whimpering, oh god the whimpering, so much worse than the screaming because Cas doesn't even have the energy to scream anymore and that's _not good_ , not good-and Cas is sagging in his restraints, his body giving out, and-"Cas-Castiel, Castiel, I'm here, I'm here, CAS-" And Dean is staring at his face like it's the last time he'll see it and no that can't happen that _won’t happen_ but blood is trickling down Cas' face from a deep gash above his brow, flowing from tiny lacerations all along his cheeks and jaw, and this is so utterly wrong, Cas is strong, Castiel is so strong, but that glint of steel is gone from his gaze and Dean _can’t stand it_ -

"Cas, please you have to look at me, you have to, look-look at me, look-" and Cas barely manages to lift his head up, but his eyes meet Dean's and Dean can't breathe. Cas' eyes are hollow, so tired, bone deep and aching and empty and _gone_ and Dean needs to-he needs to-

"Cas, Cas buddy that's it, that's it, now you look at me and don't look away, you hear me?" Cas' head starts to sag, dragging down towards the floor, eyes listing, attention _listing_ , and that can't happen, no no no, it can't it _can’t_ -"Cas. _Cas_. CASTIEL." Cas jerks weakly like he's been slapped, dragging his eyes up to meet Dean's again and Cas looks at Dean as if Dean is all that's left in the world, as if he's drowning and Dean is the sole thing that can save him.

"Cas, we're not doing this, you're not going like this, not like _this_ , not when-not when-" And his throat closes up again, the words tearing to free themselves but snagging in his teeth, resting cold and dead and sluggish on his tongue. He chokes on it, that feeling, wanting to gag with a soul deep feeling so repulsive he feels as if he'll shiver straight out of his own skin.

There's a dark figure there, standing in the corner when it wasn't there a moment before, and it shivers and twists and warps the world around it and Dean feels as if all the feeling in him is being sucked towards that presence. But that's-that’s wrong, wrong, no feeling at all when he looks into that black hole silhouette, nothing nothing _nothing_ -and it moves forward, wraps hands with no fingers and yet far too many fingers at once around the throat of the-the one with the knife-the _torturer_ , Cas' torturer-and the neck snaps and pops with a sickening crunch and the knife glints as it clatters to the cold hard concrete floor with a resounding crash that Dean doesn't hear because the world is flickering through black and white frames, snap shots jolting and quaking and flipping through like a broken movie reel-

A light bulb bursts far away and the tinkling of broken glass chimes in his ears like the toll of a church bell resounding through his skull in waves, vibrating vibrating his mind is going to shatter too-and suddenly the ropes around his wrists pull taught, digging deep into the fragile skin there, and Dean can feel a trickle of warmth run down his palms-but then the ropes go slack and suddenly he's falling, falling like it will never stop, the entire world shifting as he stays there suspended in the air-he hits the floor with a sickening crack and he muffles a scream, biting his tongue and tasting blood but not caring because he can't feel his knee and he's on the ground, on the ground, cold hard solid concrete _ground_ -

He drags himself to his feet, something crunches in his leg as he straightens it but he doesn't _care_ , can't care, because Cas is right there, directly across from him, and somehow he's suddenly right in front of Cas and oh, how deep the lines in Cas' face have dug, how they've torn and twisted but it's still _Cas_ , Cas, Cas-"Castiel" and Dean's voice is broken and raw and unrecognizable but Cas opens his eyes, fights to do so so very hard, and Dean can't help but quirk a broken, broken smile because that's his Cas, never gives up, always a fighter, a _fighter_ -Dean whimpers and his hand is reaching up, reaching reaching, for what he doesn't know-but Cas lets out a pain filled groan and Dean jerks his hand away as if it's been burned and fumbles for a knife to cut the ties pinning Cas' wrists and ankles and oh, god, there's blood, so much _blood_ -

Then the ropes are falling away and Cas is falling forward and Dean catches him, he does, of course he does, he catches him and shudders at the feel of blood pooling in his hands and wants to rave and scream and tear the whole world apart for doing this to Cas-but he doesn't. He sobs, an ugly, broken sound, and clutches at Cas' shoulders before immediately recoiling as a pained noise rips from Cas' chest at the pressure on his wounds. Cas' breathing is ragged and labored and far too hot on Dean's neck as Cas slumps against him and oh god what is Dean supposed to do, what does he _do_ -

"Dean." Cas' voice is a rasp, grating on Dean's ears, but it's the only sound Dean thinks he'll ever want to hear again.

"Cas, Cas, hey buddy. Everything's okay, everything's fine, you're gonna be _fine_ -" And Dean needs to leave, they need to leave, get as far away from this hell hole as possible, but Dean's body isn't cooperating and he can't seem to get himself to carry both his and Cas' weights at the same time, damn his leg, damn his body, weak, weak, always too weak-

"Dean." Dean startles, gaze catching on the way Cas' hand is clutching at his shoulder, and he sucks in a sharp, painful breath as he focuses back on Cas' face. There's so much blood, and without thinking he reaches out a hand to smudge it away, the edge of his palm coming away flaked in rust-brown as he brushes it across Cas' forehead.

"What, what, we have to go Cas, can't stay here, you'll be fine, just gotta-"

"Dean!" Its firmer, something sharp in the way Cas says it, and Dean is forced to really _look_ at Cas. He takes in a stuttering breath, but meets Cas' gaze, and there's something there that is strong and steady and so very grounding-

"Dean, break the circle." Dean just continues to stare, not comprehending, not comprehending anything, because they need to _leave_ -"The circle, break it, not letting me heal-" and Dean lurches forward with shaking hands and drags his palm across the chalk so painstakingly drawn onto the floor, destroying it, destroying what kept Cas trapped here, oh god just like that, it can't be that simple-but something in the air snaps and goes loose as the chalk line is broken and Cas takes in a shuddering, full body breath that grates in his chest, before breaking down in a coughing fit that wracks his frame for what seems like an eternity before calming.

Then Dean just stares, because right before his eyes the wounds gouged deep along Cas' torso stitch themselves up, healing raw and red but _smooth_ , Cas' skin knitting closed, sewing him up, putting him back together and Dean's eyes go glassy with awe and hope and oh god-Cas is-Cas is-he runs shaking fingers along the closed up seam of a wound, the muscles in his hand spasming, and he glances up and his gaze gets caught in Cas' own and suddenly he's laughing, breathless and giddy and oh god those are tears in his eyes, rolling down his cheeks, pooling hot and salty and bitter on his tongue and oh god he can't stop, can't stop, he can't _breathe_ -Cas' hands cup his cheeks, abrupt and grounding and _real_ , pressing hard against his skull, forcing Dean to meet Cas' gaze. Dean goes utterly silent, breath stilling in his chest. Because-because Cas is-

"Cas, Cas, Castiel, oh god, _Castiel_ -" and Dean runs frantic fingers across Cas' face, fingers brushing over his brow, down the line of his nose, across his cheeks, over the delicate skin beneath his eyes, because Dean needs to know that this is real, that Cas is _alive_ , that he's here and breathing and in Dean's arms-and Dean finds himself lurching forward, Castiel's name lost on his tongue, pressing his mouth to Castiel's own in utter disbelief, utter desperation, something bursting and bubbling and pouring over inside his chest as he cups Castiel's face in his hands and feels the brush of Castiel's eyelashes against his cheeks and the warmth of his breath and the heat of his mouth and the feel of his name as Castiel gasps out a broken " _Dean_ " against his lips. And all Dean can do is press closer, wind his fingers into Castiel's hair, breathe out Castiel's name over and over and over again as Cas kisses him back, kisses him breathless, kisses him like-kisses him like-

And suddenly a sob is marring the space between them and Dean doesn't know if it was him or Cas but suddenly he finds himself clinging to Cas, his fingers clenching in the tattered remains of Cas' coat, his face buried in the juncture between Cas' neck and shoulder. Cas' hair is soft and tickles his forehead and suddenly the world narrows down to how Cas is clinging back just as hard, how Cas' face is pressed to Dean's shoulder, his chin a warm weight next to his ear. How Dean can feel the rise and fall of Cas' chest against his own, how both of their breathing is finally slowing down, finally evening out. And Dean just focuses, focuses, tries to breathe, focuses on the slow rumble of Cas' chest as he hums something Dean has never heard before but knows all the same. And he wants to laugh, because he's wrapped up in the arms of an angel of the lord who is humming to him, wants to laugh because he hasn't been this terrified in a long, long time and doesn't know how to feel, but it sticks in his throat and won't come because there's nothing left of him that can laugh right now. Instead he sighs, long and weary and as if all his horrors can be expelled in a single breath of air, and tightens his grip on Cas minutely, heart still pounding frantically in his chest.

"Cas-oh, fuck, _Cas_ -" and it hits him all over again, the way Cas' face had twisted in agony, the whimpering, the screaming, the begging, the _begging_ -"I'm so sorry, oh god I'm sorry, I couldn't help you, I couldn't save you, I couldn't do anything and you suffered-oh god, what if I had lost you? I failed, I failed you, I _failed_ you, Cas-"and suddenly Cas' mouth is pressed to his again, the heat stealing Dean's breath away, hot and demanding and firm, searing all his doubts away, and just as soon as it started it's over, but Cas is still cupping his face, palms warm and calloused and so _gentle_ , gentle like Dean _matters_ and Cas speaks with a fierceness that Dean had forgotten he possessed, a conviction that settles deep within his eyes and soul and heart.

"Never. You have _never_ failed me, Dean Winchester." And Cas says it with such conviction that Dean thinks one day he might even be able to believe it.


End file.
